


I’m flammable

by scones_and_constellations



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell
Genre: Chapter 61? Kinda?, How Do I Tag, I'm Sorry, M/M, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-13
Updated: 2019-05-13
Packaged: 2020-03-02 21:47:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 632
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18819652
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scones_and_constellations/pseuds/scones_and_constellations
Summary: Baz is a mess and all he wants is for Simon to save him from himself. He wants to be in Simon's arms while his idiot whispers that he loves him. But most of all, he wants something that will stop the hatred he has for himself.





	I’m flammable

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! So basically I’m really new to this and it took a lot to work up the confidence to post this. Any nice comments would completely make my day and if you have hate then please keep it to yourself (constructive criticism is welcome though). I wrote this when I was feeling really down and it’s really angsty so sorry? It’s also really raw and not completely edited so don’t judge too hard. If you ever feel like this and need someone to talk to I’m here.

The city lights are burning bright around me but I can’t see much past the blur of my tears. I need to get away. Somewhere away from the disapproval of my father and the bustle of smiling children. Everything I look at reminds me of something that makes my heart ache. I’m such a fuck up. How could I ever call him a disaster when I’m so much worse. I’m a monster. She never would have loved me, and he never will.

My blood is boiling and my fingers are itching to destroy. I need silence, anywhere away from here. What I really want is Simon. His warm hugs and the smoky cheap soap he smells of. He is the only thing associated with the word safe even though he’s going to be the last thing I’ll see. I’ll bleed out in his arms from the sword he pierced me with and choke out that I love him. I’m too weak to ever hurt him. I can scream shitty things at him until my voice is sore and my heart is breaking. I can hide behind my lies and build walls higher than Mummers Tower. But I’d cross every line for him. His golden curls and his smile brighter than the fucking sun. Everything about him is alive alive alive. I could write essays on the freckles littering his body like constellations. I want to kiss every one of them; the map of angel kisses on his skin.

My stupid idiot, except he’ll never be mine. Simon deserves Agatha’s beautiful long hair and docile form. The perfect poster boy with the stunning girl. He deserves someone who makes him smile like a supernova. He deserves more than me. More than drained rats in the basement and my hurtful words. More than the blood staining my hands and the darkness staining my heart. More than the forest I’m surrounded with, burning because all I want to do is end it. If my mom were here she would push me closer until the flames engulfed me. If Fiona were here she would yell and pull me kicking and screaming back into her car. The rest of the night with her would be full of cigarettes and her blasting shitty punk rock music to comfort me. If my father were here he would most likely watch and wait for me to end it, calling me a disgrace for loving boys.

I don’t know what Simon would do if he were here. Probably scream at me for hurting him and end me like he always says he would. In my dreams he would pull me out like the safety net I had always thought of him as. Sometimes I hate him so much. I hate his crooked smile and his mundane blue eyes that are fascinating to me. I hate his freckled skin and his kindness. I hate how he wears joggers and a ratty t-shirt like a model. I hate him for being so easy to fall in love with.

The only way I can get close to him without snogging the life out of him is to get up in his face. To punch him. To find the most vulnerable part of him and keep pushing until his eyes are watery. I try to hate him for being such a fucking tragedy. I try to hate the way he messily inhales scones with practically a stick of butter each. I try to hate that he is clumsy as shit and always knocking over my things. I try to hate that he leaves the window open every night and I almost freeze to death. I try to hate him when he yells at me. But most of all I hate myself for ever hurting him.


End file.
